


cupid at counter forty-six

by sundazed



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Airport AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, side dotae - Freeform, side luren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 19:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20551175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundazed/pseuds/sundazed
Summary: Jaemin works at the airport check-in counter and plays matchmaker by seating single people beside each other in hopes that they could meet & fall in love 35,000 feet off the ground.And then there’s frequent flyer Jeno, who always comes in a suit and the brightest smile, and it frustrates Jaemin to no end that he can’t seem to find the perfect match for him.





	cupid at counter forty-six

**Author's Note:**

> a few things first:  
1\. yes, this is that twt fic.  
2\. no, this wasn’t supposed to be more than 10k words.  
3\. jaemin says mr. lee in english.  
4\. wrote this from what I know as a passenger in the past and the little information google could offer. apologies for any mistakes ;; (tell me if there’s anything I can change, though!)  
5\. I think I over-romanticized the idea of working and falling in love at the airport, but I hope you find it charming and sweet and hopefully not too cheesy.  
6\. airport matchmaker inspiration from david levithan’s short story ‘the number of people who meet on airplanes’ from how they met, and other stories <3  
7\. enjoy! <3

“Just give it up, Jaem.” 

Mark, glasses slightly askew and head a bird’s nest from relentlessly carding his fingers through it, tells Jaemin for what he estimates is the forty-third time. 

“No.” Jaemin shakes his head, firm. He’s far too invested in the game to throw in the towel now. “I’ve sent him off a dozen times, and he seems like a good guy. Nice smile. Kind of clumsy, but in a funny way.”

(Mark arches an eyebrow but Jaemin doesn’t notice.)

Jaemin continues, “Remember that one time? When he almost missed his flight?” Jaemin fondly laughs at the memory still vividly etched in his mind. “He was so frazzled, he gave me his phone number instead of his flight number?” 

“I don’t remember, no,” Mark shakes his head, licks his lips, “But you sure seem like you haven’t forgotten.”

“Well,” Jaemin sighs. “I don’t know. It’s just a pity he always flies alone.”

When Jaemin looks at him again, the smile on Mark’s face is devious. Jaemin stops mid-stir of his coffee. “What?”

“Nothing,” Mark smiles into the rim of his paper cup. Jaemin has half a mind to lean over to adjust his glasses for him. “Sounds to me like you have a crush.”

Any of Jaemin’s intention to help Mark make himself look presentable again flies out of the window then. 

That is ridiculous. Jaemin? Having a crush on one of the passengers? Scandalous.

Jaemin throws a sugar packet at him. “You know what I hate?” 

Renjun, who had been to the restroom to change, enters then, cutting in and picking up the brown packet from the floor, “Artificial sweeteners?”

Jaemin ignores the little demon. “When people misinterpret my good-intentioned actions.”

“So you _ do _ like him?” Mark presses, finally adjusting his glasses on his nose, finally framing his excited, stupid face perfectly.

Renjun smiles mischievously with Mark. “Oh, are we talking about crescent-eyed Mr. Lee again?”

Jaemin groans. “I'm just trying to be nice!”

“Think, Jaem,” Renjun nudges him, “There are over 200 counters in the terminal. Don’t you ever wonder why he always ends up at yours?”

Jaemin’s cheeks burn. “Coincidence,” Jaemin tries, ignoring the feeling growing quickly in his chest. 

Mark rises dramatically, index finger pointing upward. “I absolutely think not!” 

“Maybe. Just _ maybe,_” Renjun drawls. “He does it on purpose.”

Jaemin is Jaemin. Jaemin doesn’t get flustered. He _ never _ gets flustered. But the most articulate thing he comes up with is, “Psh—no. As if. No.” He stands, woozy. The thought had never occurred to him. He just always thought of Mr. Lee as the businessman who flies a lot (and smiles a lot) (and laughs a lot). Nothing more. “You two are being ridiculous.”

Renjun hums, “Whatever you say.”

Mark doesn’t press further, but the way he’s biting his lip and looking at him says a lot. 

“Just wait and see.” Jaemin downs his now-cold coffee in one swig before crumpling the paper cup and throwing it into the bin by the door. “I'll find the perfect match for him.”

✈

Jaemin didn’t always play matchmaker. It’s not part of his job description after all.

All he’s supposed to do was this: smile, provide assistance, make sure the passengers get to the correct boarding gate, answer queries, smile, and then some. He was hardworking, as was most of the airport staff, but there was something with the way he handled passengers that earned him everyone’s adoration. 

A baby who can’t seem to stop crying? Call Jaemin. An adult throwing tantrums because their flight was delayed or their connecting flight’s cancelled? Jaemin’s on it. 

It was easy, maybe even _ too _ easy, that it got a little boring. 

So when a passenger only a few years older than him comes to his counter one Tuesday afternoon, red eyes and shaky voice, Jaemin just can’t help but work his charm and try something new.

“You are unmarried, sir, correct?”

The man—Kim Doyoung—nods, not questioning Jaemin’s unusual query. “Can I get a window seat, please?”

“Yes,” Jaemin smiles at the screen, his mischievous plan swimmingly set into motion. “I’ve got the perfect seat for you.” 

The aircraft for this particular flight was relatively small; its cabin holding two-by-two rows with no middle seat. Jaemin comfortably finds the seat beside a previous passenger, Mr. Lee Taeyong, kind eyes and friendly voice, who wanted the aisle seat (“To get to the lavatory more conveniently,” Mr. Lee had overshared early on.) and who seems like will get along with Mr. Kim perfectly. 

It was a spontaneous decision, and Jaemin, technically, isn’t bending any rules, so he hopes that his gut feeling is right; hopes that Mr. Doyoung gets off the plane in Narita with happier eyes and a new friend. Jaemin pushes the boarding pass in front of him. 

“You’re in seat 16A, sir,” he encircles the number, as is customary. “Your boarding time is at 13:10 at boarding gate 10. That’s in the east wing, just a little past the Krispy Kreme. Have a nice flight, sir,” Jaemin offers him another smile.

Mr. Kim forcefully smiles, collects his boarding pass, and leaves.

It is a month later when Jaemin sees him again — devoid of the sadness Jaemin had initially seen him with, hand tight around Mr. Lee’s. They don’t recognize him, but Jaemin somehow did. And it filled him with the same kind of joy he got whenever he was around puppies.

And that’s when it started. 

Jaemin didn’t keep count. But he always, somehow, found out if the people he matched ended up together.

He loves his job as it is, but this made it more exciting. This made it more fulfilling. 

“You’re meddling,” Renjun pointed an accusing finger at him when he’d caught wind of what Jaemin had been up to. “You’re not cupid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaemin steals a sip of Renjun’s tea and recoils when the liquid hits his taste buds. This is why coffee is his favorite source of caffeine. “I’d like to think of it as strategic passenger placement.”

“Careful,” Renjun warned. Between the two of them, he _ was _ always the voice of reason. “The supervisors might find out.”

“Again,” Jaemin grinned, settling on stealing pinches of Renjun’s melon bread. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just doing my job. And it’s my job to help our passengers find the most ideal seats for them.”

“Bullshit,” counters Renjun, swatting Jaemin’s hand away. “And yet you can’t find yourself a date.”

“For the record, I go on dates. Plural.”

“Tell me, Jaem,” Renjun tapped his chin. “How did those dates_ , plural, _ go?”

Jaemin gave his best friend a deserving flick on the forehead. “Just because you’re disgustingly in love doesn’t mean you can shit on my dating life.”

“I’m not shitting on your dating life,” Renjun deployed countermeasures and started poking at Jaemin’s side. “All I’m saying is”—poke—”before you go run around pairing people up,”—poke—”maybe you should pay attention to your own heart first.”

Jaemin was floored and effectively out-of-breath. The little demon had a point, but he wasn’t backing down—he took a big bite of the melon bread. “I visited a cardiologist for my annual last week and they said my heart is just fine,” his voice came out muffled but Renjun’s years of dealing with his ass came in handy then.

“This will bite you in the ass someday,” Renjun announced with the same confidence those fortune-tellers carry when they predict your future. Except Renjun didn’t do it to mooch money off of Jaemin, he said it only because he somehow always _knew _ and he likes being right when it _ does _ happen. “Oh, and I found that melon bread on the floor.”

✈

Mr. Lee always flies out on the first and third Thursdays of the month. Jaemin doesn’t know when he returns, but for one year, without fail, he sees him at Counter 46, waiting to be checked in.

Today, Jaemin just realized, is a Thursday. The third Thursday of the month.

When he’s not at the counter, Jaemin is either assisting guests to their boarding gate or greeting passengers at arrivals. But Thursdays are always much calmer compared to the other days, so he stays stationed at Counter 46.

Jaemin waits. He smiles, weighs baggage, and reminds passengers of their boarding time like always.

He waits. He greets, answers queries, and gives directions when needed.

He waits.

But the queue ends. And Mr. Lee doesn’t grace the counter with his sleek, black suit and pearly white smile. There’s a momentary turbulence in his stomach, but he gets a grip of himself as quickly as the feeling comes.

“Huh, no Mr. Lee today,” Jaemin wonders aloud as he shuts the monitor down.

Maybe a little _ too _ loud because Mark, who’s just opened the adjacent counter, comments, “You look disappointed.”

“Today’s Thursday, right?”

Mark checks the monitor. “Yep.”

“The third Thursday?” Another nod.

“Maybe something came up,” Mark offers, shrugging.

Jaemin doesn’t know why he’s disappointed or affected, but he thinks about Mr. Lee the entire time he’s on break.

“Supervisor Suh wants you to man boarding gate 24 when you’re done, Jaem,” Renjun tells him on his way out.

Jaemins smiles, answers queries, and gives directions for lost passengers all the way to the gate.

That’s where he sees him — Mr. Lee. Except, he’s not in a suit nor does he have a suitcase with him. Jaemin checks the destination of the flight — Shanghai.

Hendery, fellow airline staff, elbows him, pulling him out of his reverie. “Gate’s open, Jaemin. Hey, did you see the news about the new Kang’s Kitchen installment?”

Jaemin nods, not really paying attention to what Hendery’s talking about, before redirecting his attention to the line in front of him. In his periphery, he sees Mr. Lee stand up and Jaemin wonders if he’ll recognize him without a counter covering two-thirds of his body.

Jaemin smiles, scans the passes, and tells the passengers to have a safe flight.

The line dissipates quickly; Mr. Lee is in front of him in no time.

“Oh,” Mr. Lee blinks. “Jaemin-ssi. It’s you.”

Jaemin smiles, not his customer service smile, but a genuine one. “It’s me. Personal trip, sir?”

“Sort of.” Mr. Lee smiles back and hands him his boarding pass. Jaemin scans it. 

“Have a safe flight, Mr. Lee.”

Then, an unexpected thing happens—Mr. Lee leans over. Close. _Too _close for comfort, even. But he doesn’t find it in himself to step back. “Jeno,” he whispers. “You can call me Jeno. Renju—I mean, Mr. Huang checked me in today. He said we’re the same age and—“

The middle-aged man behind them coughs, impatient. Jeno looks back, bows sheepishly. “Sorry.” 

Jaemin spent most of his break with Renjun, and not once did he mention seeing Mr. Lee (Jeno?). He takes a mental note to take back his offer of a packed lunch tomorrow.

“Alright, Jeno-ssi,” Jaemin says, not wanting to seem unprofessional. “Safe travels.” 

Jeno chuckles, moving past him. “See you when I get back.” 

Jaemin nods, smiles a little wider. The next time he sees him, Jaemin swears he’ll find the perfect match for Jeno.

As soon as Jaemin sees Renjun after his shift, he pinches his side. “Why didn’t you tell me you saw Mr. Lee?”

Renjun retaliates by tickling his neck. “Since when was I his keeper? And how would I have known you wanted so badly to see him?”

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “He told me that you told him we’re the same age.”

“I told him,” Renjun pauses as he folds his uniform. “Because he asked.”

“What?”

“He asked.” The Cheshire cat grin that grows on Renjun’s face is undeniable. It also kind of makes Jaemin want to puke. “About you.”

There’s prickling on Jaemin’s neck. “What exactly did he ask?”

Renjun laughs. “Interested, aren’t you?”

_ Maybe_. “Just spit it out.”

“Nah,” Renjun waves a hand. “He just wanted to know if I knew the guy at Counter 46. Then I saw his passport and told him. ‘_Oh, same birth year._’”

“That’s all?”

Renjun’s brows are knit in thought. “Yeah.”

Jaemin nods, already thinking of his next plan of action. He’s about to leave the staff room when he sees the naughty smile etched on Renjun’s face. “What? I can hear your mind. It’s like this annoying, crunching noise.”

“Oh, nothing,” Renjun replies with his signature irritating nonchalance. “I just remembered he also asked if you were single_._”

“What?!”

Then Renjun lunges, swift — and puts Jaemin in a chokehold, “He asked if you were single! Dumbass! He wanted to know if you’re sucking face with someone!”

Jaemin jerks violently and Renjun lets go. The heat travels quickly from Jaemin’s neck to his cheeks. “Ma-maybe you misheard him.”

“Holy fuck,” Renjun groans. “You’re impossible.”

“W-what?”

Renjun sighs, collects his things, and before walking out, he says, “Guess you really are stupid cupid.”

✈️

Sure enough, Jaemin sees Jeno again one week later. Not on a Thursday, not at the check-in counter, but at the arrival gate. 

Jaemin didn’t know. Hendery _ wouldn’t _ know. Mark _ probably _ pretended he didn’t know. And Renjun straight-up pretended Jaemin didn’t exist all day.

“Here to pick me up, Jaemin-ssi?”

Jeno’s in a hoodie and jeans, black hair down, and a pair of semi-rimless glasses Jaemin hasn’t seen before. 

It’s a stark contrast to his usual business getup, and Jaemin can’t deny that he's a little winded when he sees him. Jaemin beams, chuckling as the other passengers float out of the aerobridge. “On behalf of the airline staff, we hope you had a pleasurable flight, Mr. Lee.”

“It’s good to see you.” Jeno adjust the straps of his backpack, another deviation from the usual. “Really, really good.”

“Just doing my job, sir.” Jaemin says, polite. He gulps down the feeling threatening to spill out of his chest. “Safe travels home.”

Jeno opens and closes his mouth, adjusts his backpack, and starts walking away. Jaemin watches him, and he doesn’t know why but he chants in his head,

_ Turn around. _

_ Turn around. _

One more beat, and Jeno does. He spins clumsily on his heels, one foot snatching on the other.

Jaemin wants to laugh, but the rest of his body stills.

He starts walking back to where Jaemin stands at the gate. Without warning, he speaks again, “Jaemin-ssi, are you an airport runway?”

Jaemin definitely didn’t expect that. “Sir? W-what are you—?”

Jeno pauses, rubs the back of his neck. Then he whispers, voice low, “Because no matter how much I fly, my mind always seems to land right back on you.” 

Then Jeno smiles at him, right at him, and Jaemin’s stomach goes for a nosedive.

✈

Jaemin’s parents met on an airplane. Graduation trip. He’s been told the story countless times, Jaemin has it memorized like the veins on the back of his hands.

It was a red-eye flight from Incheon to Kuala Lumpur. The flight was overbooked and his dad had been given the seat at the last minute. Mom, on the other hand, made it with only a minute to spare. She’d overslept—but all these events led them to sit beside each other in Economy. They started talking, and eventually shared a cab out of the airport—even though they were staying in hotels on opposite sides of the city. They went straight for breakfast, oversized bags on their backs and a trunk full of stories exchanged between them.

“Flying used to be so exciting, magical,” Jaemin’s mom would say. “Now, everyone’s just rushing to go from one place to the next. They don’t know what they’re missing. It’s kind of sad, don’t you think so, honey?”

They’ve admittedly changed, right with the times, but they grew up and grew in—together—and Jaemin still sees his parents dance in the living room, in each other’s arms, to the tune of Fly Me to The Moon, no less.

So maybe that’s why Jaemin believes in finding romance 35,000 feet above the ground. Maybe that’s why he continues to play matchmaker. Because even if everyone’s in a rush, it could still happen. Jaemin believed that.

He just never thought it would happen to him. On the ground. At the arrival gate.

“Mr. Lee, is this the jet lag talking or—“

But as Jaemin fumbles for words, searching his mind for the right thing to say, there’s a tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” an old woman cuts in, “I have a connecting flight to Sydney, but I don’t know where to go, could you...”

The switch in Jaemin’s mind is automatic, and he goes back to his customer service voice. He smiles, explains what she’s supposed to do, and gives her directions to the counters.

But the old woman still looks genuinely lost and Jaemin isn’t Employee of The Month for nothing. So he turns to Jeno, who seems frozen in place, and says, apologetically, “Excuse me, Mr. Lee. I have to—“

Jeno smiles, understanding. “That’s okay. I’ll try again next time.”

“What do you—“

But Jeno’s already walking away, waving a hand over his head, “See you next week!”

✈

“Jet lag?! Jaemin, what the fu—“

Renjun smacks Mark in the head. “Language, Minhyung.”

“I’m older than—“

But Mark never gets to finish because Renjun’s head snaps to Jaemin, “But yeah, Jaemin, what the _park_? Jet lag? Shanghai is only an hour behind. You know that.”

Jaemin buries his head in his hands. “He caught me off guard!”

“I already laid out the pieces for you, all you had to do was reciprocate!” Renjun is frustrated, and a frustrated Renjun is a force to be reckoned with.

“Since when did I ask for you to be my wingman?” Jaemin’s cheek meets the cold table.

“Same reason you keep playing cupid, Jaem. You deserve a shot at love,” Renjun’s voice is surprisingly soft. “And you can’t third wheel on my dates with Xuxi forever.”

”I know, I know. I just don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Why not?” Mark lightly slaps his cheek.

“I’m scared. It’s just been so long since.” Jaemin groans, forehead now on the surface, “So _ that’s _ why he never clicked with the people I tried to match him with.”

“And you said you had 20/20 vision,” Mark pokes. “Guess you’re pretty farsighted, Jaem.”

He lifts his head. “I do. I have perfect eyesight.”

Renjun laughs, mocking. “I don’t think so. He was right _there_.” 

“If you think about it,” Mark clasps a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder. “He’s been trying to flirt with you for more than ten months.”

Renjun continues, “And not once did it occur to you that he was batting his lashes at you.”

“I thought he just grew fond of me. A familiar face at the airport. I thought he was thankful because I always had a window seat saved for him!”

“You’re an airport runway?”

Jaemin clasps his hands over his ears. He doesn’t want to hear it.

“And his mind keeps landing back to you?”

Renjun and Mark are snickering, and they’re making no attempt to hide their amusement at Jaemin’s frustration.

He rises, “I’m too sleepy for this. I’m going home.”

“You have no idea of the power that smile gives you, Jaem! Better be careful whom you give it to from now on!”

✈

Jaemin has always been a people person. He’s charming. He’s charismatic without ever being conniving.

When he was in school, he was called Mr. Congeniality. They lined up to sit with him at lunch, wanted him on their team during gym class, invited him to parties.

Jaemin was always the shiny new toy, and everyone couldn’t wait their turn to play with him. But Jaemin’s social battery runs out, too. There are days when he gets tired, craves solitude, and wants to eat his food in silence, too.

Today is one of those days.

Jaemin smiles, but the strain on his cheeks make it harder with every face he passes by. 

Jaemin answers queries, but he stumbles on his words and makes the mistake of saying it’s left rather than right.

He needs to snap out of it — but sometimes it’s just hard.

“Go home, take a rest,” Supervisor Suh tells him. “You’ve been working overtime since Saturday. I’ll get someone else to man the counter.”

Jaemin protests, but Supervisor Suh glares at him. so he smiles, says thanks and excuses himself.

Jaemin bows his head, lets himself yawn.

He allows himself to walk quietly, every step closer to sleep. 

But then—

Someone’s blocking his way, and when Jaemin looks up, a pair of worried eyes meet him.

“Jaemin-ssi, are you okay?”

Oh, right. Today is Thursday.

There’s a knot in his throat, so Jaemin gives him a smile and a thumbs up instead.

But Jeno doesn’t budge. “you don’t look so well.”

Jaemin tries to find his words. He says, voice a little hoarse, “Just a bad day is all. You don’t have a flight to catch?”

“I do.” Jeno looks up at the flight info board. Jaemin notes he’s in casual clothes in lieu of his suit. Shanghai again, perhaps.

(Jaemin likes this look better on him. It accentuates his friendly eyes.)

“But it’s delayed, see?”

Jaemin follows. “Ah, yeah. Bad weather, maybe.”

“Yes. Maybe. So I was wondering...” Jeno avoids his gaze. “Have you had dinner?”

Jaemin shakes his head, no.

“Ah.” The corner of Jeno’s lips turn upward. “Well, then, would you like to get something to eat?”

Oh.

Jaemin’s stomach lurches.

Hastily, Jeno adds, “With me?”

Jeno looks at him expectantly. And Jaemin gets to look at him, for real, for the first time. He’s good-looking. Like straight out of a dream good-looking. Jaemin’s type of good-looking, even. His features are distinct, but there’s a softness to it that Jaemin can’t seem to pinpoint. A _ je ne sais quoi. _

Or in this case, a Jeno sais quoi. Jaemin giggles.

“What?” Jeno blinks at him. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, no.” Jaemin only realizes then how creepy he must have been for staring. “It’s just—I can’t. Not right now.”

Jeno’s face sinks. And Jaemin almost wants to retract his words because he misses his eye smile.

Jeno forces a smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Okay. I think I understand now.”

Jaemin tilts his head. “What do you understand?”

Jeno mimics him. “The message is clear.”

Then he smiles at Jaemin. “I’m sorry. If I ever made you feel uncomfortable.”

Jaemin doesn’t understand, so he stays mum.

Jeno continues, “It’s just — you have a really enchanting smile, do you know that?” A laugh. “But okay. I won’t bother you from now on. I’m sorry. Again.”

Then it clicks. Jaemin realizes what’s happening. His mind accelerates.

“Oh no, no, no,” Jaemin says way too quickly. “It’s not that. You can bother me.”

Jeno arches an eyebrow.

“I mean—it’s okay. I would say yes, but I really am feeling under the weather, so I’d probably just bore you,” Jaemin explains. “but dinner. Yes. Dinner is fine. Lunch, even. Or just a quick bite—a sandwich, maybe?”

Jeno’s smiling again. His crescent eyes are back. “Oh.”

Jaemin realizes he must seem too eager. “Next time your flight’s delayed. If you still want to.”

“Okay.” Jeno smiles, nodding. Oh, those crescent eyes.

Jaemin smiles, real. “Okay.”

“Ah, but for the record.” Jeno tucks his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think you’d ever be capable of boring me.”

Bless Jaemin’s poor heart —_ pumping, pumping, pumping. _

Jaemin can only shake his head incredulously. In fear of sputtering like an idiot, he does what he does best: he switches to customer service mode. “I hope you have a safe flight, Mr. Lee.”

“Jeno,” he pleads. “Call me Jeno. Mr. Lee is my father.”

“Okay, Jeno-ssi. See you soon.”

✈

‘Soon’ comes sooner than Jaemin had initially thought. He’s not exactly complaining, though.

It’s Saturday. Jaemin’s on the last hour of his shift. He stands outside the arrival gate, waiting for flight NC520 to deplane.

Those in first class trickle out of the gate first, and Jaemin smiles at them. Then the rest of the passengers spill out, feet heavy and voices a collection of murmurs.

Jaemin isn’t sure if Jeno is on this flight, but he hopes. He should’ve asked when he’ll get back — but it’s too late for regrets and Jeno’s walking towards him now, anyway.

“We hope you had a pleasurable flight, sir.” Jaemin grins.

Jeno seems surprised and not at all to see Jaemin at the gate again. “Here to pick me up again, Jaemin-ssi?”

“No, sir. Just doing my job,” he teases.

“Dinner? Now?”

One thing Jaemin has learned ever since Renjun and Mark had smacked some sense to him is this: Jeno really goes in for the kill.

“Now?!”

Jeno steps forward, closer to Jaemin, to avoid the people rushing to baggage claim. “Yep, now.”

Jaemin gives a sideways glance to Hendery,

Who’s looking at them with a questioning look. “I still have an hour left though. My shift ends at 10.”

Jeno adjusts his fringe, brushing away the hair covering his eyes. “Then I’ll wait.”

Gobsmacked by Jeno’s persistence, Jaemin wordlessly nods his head, _okay_.

“Who was that?” Hendery elbows him.

The people have started to thin out now, and only the flight crew are left. Xuxi walks out first. Jaemin waves at him, “Renjun’s waiting for you at the staff room!” Then he turns back to Hendery, “Oh, he was just asking about food.”

✈

It’s the longest hour of Jaemin’s life.

For a Saturday, the terminal is relatively calm. Usually, Jaemin would bask in this quiet. But it just makes waiting less bearable.

He drums his fingers on the desk as he watches the giant digital clock blink and blink at him.

The excitement mixes with the jitters and he realizes this is the first time in a long time that he’s felt butterflies and fireworks cohabit his skin.

Good thing Renjun and Mark have already clocked out two hours ago. The teasing would’ve been restless, he knows it.

Blink.

A crying little girl approaches him.

Blink.

Crying little girl says she can’t find her mom.

Blink.

Jaemin asks for her name. Makes an announcement through the PA system.

Blink.

Little girl’s mom finds them. Little girl stops crying, but clings onto Jaemin.

“Thank you,” she says, bashful.

“No problem.” Jaemin smiles, squeezes her hand. Little girl’s mom thanks Jaemin and finally, little girl lets go. Jaemin waves goodbye. He watches until they look like ants walking away.

And then—

Blink.

Ten o’clock.

He runs.

As promised, Jaemin finds Jeno on one of the benches near baggage claim. He approaches with light, small steps as he attempts to level his breathing again.

(He sprinted from the help desk to the staff room to the baggage claim area — enough workout for the year).

He squints.

The closer he gets, the more he realizes that Jeno’s head is softly swinging back and forth. Oh, _man_. 

He fell asleep waiting for him.

Jaemin fumbles with the straps of his backpack as guilt slowly bubbles in his chest. He watches the rise and fall of Jeno’s chest, eyes shut.

Then the thought comes back: he fell asleep waiting for Jaemin.

He really waited.

His heart ricochets from guilt to fondness. He smiles a toothless smile and sits beside Jeno, careful not to wake him up.

The mole beside his eye. His thin lips. Soft lashes on soft cheeks.

Wait. Pause. Rewind.

Jaemin slaps his own cheek, snap himself out of his thoughts. After weighing his choices, he decides to wake Jeno up, no matter how much he doesn’t want to ruin the peaceful sight.

“Jeno?”

He stirs, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jeno, wake up.”

Na-da.

Jaemin’s about to try again when Jeno wakes without warning, like a cat thrown in an ice bath, startling the both of them.

“I fell asleep.” Jeno says sheepishly, as if he’s just been caught red-handed; as if Jaemin isn’t the one who’s supposed to feel guilty.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no.” Jeno waves his hands. “it’s okay. I was just preparing my eyes for when I get to see you again.”

Jaemin never gets flustered. But he’s lost count of the times Jeno’s made him feel so. “You’re ridiculous. What do you want to eat?”

“I know just the place.”

✈

“Aren’t you sick of Japanese food yet?” Jaemin chuckles when Jeno finishes ordering udon for the both of them.

They’re sat in the only restaurant that’s still open in the airport. Jaemin doubts it’s as good as the real thing, but he’s hungry, it’s Jeno’s treat, and Jaemin’s simply not turning down a free meal.

“That’s one of the mysteries of life, isn’t it?”

“What? Noodles?”

“No.” Jeno laughs. “How, sometimes, you just end up missing something no matter how many times you’ve seen it. Or had it.”

“Oho! That was pretty deep, Jeno-ssi.”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “Wait, I thought we were dropping honorifics?”

“Since when?”

“I heard you. When you were waking me up. I specifically remember you whispering Jeno.”

Jeno points an accusing finger at Jaemin. It’s silly.

“I mean, if it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me,” Jeno affirms.

Jaemin doesn’t need to think about it. “Okay. But only when I’m off-duty. Still need to address you properly when I’m working, lest I get reprimanded.”

Jeno’s quick to understand. “Yeah, we don’t want that.”

“So...”

Jeno tilts his head to the side again, like a puppy. “So...?”

Jaemin’s been itching to know since Renjun and Mark mentioned it. “What’s the deal?”

“What do you mean _ what’s the deal?”_

Jaemin doesn’t waste time beating around the bush anymore. It’s killing him.

“What is this? What are we doing? Why did you wait for me?”

The look on Jeno’s face tells that he was not expecting the question at all. Jaemin keeps a straight face, even though his nerves are going haywire.

(Admittedly, he doesn’t know what answer he wants.)

“I...like you.”

“Oh.”

Shit. Okay. Jaemin did not expect an answer as straightforward as that.

“I thought you knew—was... Was it not obvious?” Jeno laughs shakily and wraps his arms around himself. “My brother said I had to—all those lame pickup lines—I thought I was being—“

The udon couldn’t have been served at a better time and Jaemin couldn’t have thanked the server enough. “Jeno, uh, the noodles.”

“Right.” Jeno looks genuinely dumbfounded. “Yes. Wouldn’t want ‘em to get soggy.”

“Yeah. Yay, udon,” Jaemin says in a tone that isn’t cheery at all. They slurp in silence, both of them occasionally unintentionally looking up at the same time and making awkward eye contact.

(And all the while, Jaemin’s thinking, _shit shit shit I look ugly when I eat_.)

This is the most awkward meal in the entirety of Jaemin’s existence. And he has no one to blame but himself.

Jaemin has been confessed to many times, been in a couple of relationships—a few flings and two steady ones.

There was Park Jisung, a junior two years younger in the same soccer team as Jaemin was in high school, who confessed with shaky hands and an innocently sweet smile.

It didn’t work out. Jaemin sees him more of a brother.

In college, Xiao Dejun gave him sunflowers (“because bloomed brightly like Jaemin”) and took him out to a fancy dinner (confusing utensils and all), which he apparently had to pay for by peeling garlic at his auntie’s food stall on the weekends.

They were together for two years, till they called it quits in junior year. 

He had a couple more flings until graduation, but never anything quite as serious. But he’s had his practice. He’s been to the field and back. So, see, there’s no reason for Jaemin to be flustered. He’s practically a pro.

Or so he thought.

Those three words have never impeded Jaemin’s ability to speak this much — to the point where he can’t even find the confidence to talk about the weather.

Jeno’s candid confession blindsided Jaemin. And he’s stuck.

It’s true when he told Mark he’s scared. He’s not quite ready to reciprocate, but he’s not completely against the idea, either.

(He’s strong and independent, but he’d also like a hand to hold, thank you very much.)

It’s the emotional intimacy that Jaemin’s truly scared of — it’s been too long since he last opened himself up to someone, so much so that the idea feels foreign.

Skinship is second nature to him, but it’s the emotional commitment that he’s having a hard time dealing with.

God, Jaemin can’t believe he’s thinking about these things as he’s eating udon with the person in question.

Oh, look, he’s almost emptied the bowl. Fantastic.

“Well, that hit the spot.” Jeno wipes the corner of lips, still averting his gaze like Jaemin’s some sort of eyesore. But Jaemin doesn’t mind. He’s doing the same thing. “Y-yeah. That was really”—a burp—“good.”

It takes a moment for them to realize what just happened, but when their eyes meet, they start howling with laughter.

“I’m sorry”—wheeze—“I-i don’t know where that”—wheeze—“came from.”

They’re both doubled over, gripping their stomachs, and Jaemin could feel the servers boring holes at their heads. When they recover, Jaemin wipes a few tears from his eyes as he tries to refocus his sight on Jeno. “I did not expect that. I didn't know you burped.”

"Don’t underestimate me, Jeno,” Jaemin warns playfully. “There’s still a lot udon know!”

Jeno cracks up at Jaemin’s lame pun, and throws his hands up in surrender. “Hey, that’s why I’m here.”

Jaemin can only smile. Jeno asks for the bill, and they easily slip into conversation.

They leave the restaurant much relaxed than earlier, exchanging easy questions about each other.

Jaemin finds out Jeno works for a furniture company and he gets sent to Japan to oversee operations and attend to business deals there.

“And the suit is always necessary?”

"The suit is precisely why I’m the one they keep sending over!” Jeno stops walking for emphasis. “I’m the only one in the office who looks smoking hot in it.”

Jaemin pretends to gag, earning him a light smack on the arm. “Really, though. Can’t you just change into it when you get there?”

They start walking again, elbows brushing from time to time.

"I didn't think it made sense at first, too. I like wearing sweatpants more than anything," Jeno explains, “But there are some clients I have to meet directly from the airport, so I don’t really have time to spare. It's more efficient this way. And besides,” Jeno nudges Jaemin, “I look good in it, don’t I?”

Jaemin laughs at Jeno’s confidence and he ponders on how easy it is for them to banter like this, after that very awkward first meal (he’s not sure if he could call it a date) together. He caves, “Yes. You do. But i kinda like this whole I-just-got-out-of-bed-and-I’m-late look on you more. Jaemin pauses, contemplates for half a second, then he adds, “You’re cuter like this.”

Jeno’s ears turn crimson, and Jaemin feels his own cheeks go warm. Jaemin’s still good at this, casual flirting, at least. Jeno finds his words only when they’re traversing down the stairs, asking Jaemin about airport secrets and hacks.

✈

Jaemin refuses to dwell on Jeno’s confession, but it echoes in Jaemin’s mind over the course of the following week. Jaemin had made the wrong move of spilling every detail of the udon restaurant shebang and as the helpful friends they are, Renjun and Mark had made it their personal mission to repeat the words in varying irritating inflections every chance they get.

Jaemin’s positively losing it.

It also doesn’t help that Jaemin had slipped and told Jeno that he was planning on buying a new desk for his apartment and Jeno, the kindhearted friend he was, instantly offered to show him around their warehouse along with a generous discount.

That’s why Jaemin’s here now, a week after the confession over udon, walking through aisles and aisles of furniture on a Sunday afternoon. With Jeno.

"Furniture shopping on the second date?” Renjun had shouted in the middle of the terminal, right in front of boarding gate 16, when they were on their way to lunch on Monday.

It took a pinch on his arm for him to add, much quieter, “You’re already like an old married couple and you haven’t even said you like him back yet.”

“It’s just a friend thing,” insisted Jaemin. “It’s not a date. That thing at the udon restaurant wasn’t a date, either. Just... Two people having dinner.”

“Yeah, well,” Renjun clicked his tongue, “You’re not fooling anyone.”

"What kind did you have in mind?” Jeno inquires as Jaemin browses through their catalogue. He has his eyes on a couple of designs, but the price tag on each one forces him to keep turning and turning the pages.

“Is this really okay?” Jaemin looks up, thumb resting between pages.

"I mean, for me to be here. I really wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” he reasons, biting down his lip.

"It’s fine!” Jeno says cheerily, his voice shrill. “I’m... pretty tight with the CEO. So just point and I’ll have it arranged for you.”

Jeno’s reassurance doesn’t make Jaemin any less shy as he flips through the pages. For a relatively small (it’s nothing like ikea but Jeno says they’re starting to take off) company, they do have a lot to choose from.

After a while, Jaemin gets to the end and pushes the catalogue to Jeno. “these are all wonderful. But i don’t think I can really afford any of these,” Jaemin chuckles, trying to mask the embarrassment he feels. “I just really need a simple one.”

But Jeno seems understanding enough, taking the catalogue from him, nodding. ”But tell me, what did you like?”

Jeno stands up and rounds the small table to where Jaemin is sat, handing him back the catalogue. Their fingers brush for the slightest moment and Jaemin’s suddenly too distracted, the image of the desk he’d been eyeing suddenly becomes blurry.

“Uh—I—“ Jaemin turns aimlessly, blinking fast and keeping his eyes glued to the catalogue in front of him. Jeno hovers behind him, hand resting on the backrest of his chair. Jaemin’s bothered by the proximity, not because his personal space feels violated, but because Jeno smells vaguely of cotton and musk and Jaemin can’t think straight.

Jeno seems unfazed and doesn’t seem to notice Jaemin’s suddenly shaky hands, so he tries to trudge on, eyes searching for the one he’d really liked from earlier. When he finds it, he makes a dangerous move of turning his head towards Jeno, and unsurprisingly, Jeno looks just as nonplussed.

The tips of their noses are only inches away, and Jaemin has to curse at himself to stop his eyes from dropping to Jeno’s lips.

Shit, shit, shit. Why can’t he turn away?

Jeno breathes, “That one?”

The warmth of Jeno’s breath sends jolts of electricity to Jaemin’s toes, finally snapping himself out of the trance. He jerks his head towards the catalogue, eyes landing on the sleek, white desk with a built-in lamp. “Y-yes.” Jaemin clears his throat. “That one.”

✈

Jaemin usually has Wednesdays off as well, but Supervisor Suh was insistent that he come to work today, going as far as hinting at a generous bonus.

“It’s not just you,” Youngho clarifies. “I’m calling everyone I can to clock in. There are flight delays left and right because of the storm, and we need all hands on deck to help manage the situation.” As an afterthought, he adds, “And you’re one of my most competent employees. I need you.”

Jaemin tries to not be too flattered by the comment, knowing full well it’s just an extra nudge to get him to say yes. But every single fiber of Jaemin’s being wants to say no, remembering that the desk he’d chosen (Jeno said he could use his employee discount as a late birthday gift) is scheduled to be delivered today.

(Also because he and Jeno had agreed to meet up for lunch.)

But Youngho is persistent, and at this point, Jaemin feels pressured to say yes.

So he does.

As he’s changing into his uniform, completely abandoning his supposed plans for the day, he disappointedly tries to string together a proper apology to Jeno.

He stares at his phone, at Jeno’s contact name on his screen.

(They’d finally exchanged numbers at the warehouse. For business purposes, of course.)

He’s about to type out a message when his phone buzzes in his hand, and Jaemin almost loses his grip around it.

It’s a text from Jeno.

**lee jeno** [10:47 AM]

_Hi, Jaemin ^^ it’s Jeno~~ just wanted to remind you that the desk is going to be delivered at around 11 ^_^_

**lee jeno** [10:48 AM]

_p.s. it’s raining pretty hard, how about samgyetang for lunch? ^_^_

Disappointment pools around Jaemin’s stomach as he ruefully types out a reply explaining the situation at work, and that he, unfortunately, won’t make it for lunch.

Jaemin’s slipping on his shoes, the storm in full swing outside, when Jeno’s reply comes.

**lee jeno** [11:13 AM]

:c

Jaemin has never resonated with a single emoticon more in his life.

Not a second later, Jeno texts again — says that the delivery can be postponed to Sunday, and that he understands, it’s fine, they can go for lunch another time, with a smiley emoticon attached at the end.

Jaemin quickly types out a reply before heading out the door.

**jaemin** [11:17 AM]

_sorry, rlly wanted to treat you 2 lunch today :c they just really need me at work_

His phone buzzes again only when he gets on the bus_._

**lee jeno** [11:26 AM]

_no worries. See you tomorrow ^-^’_

Right. Thursday. Jaemin can’t wait.

✈

Thursday comes quick.

But the exhaustion from yesterday’s shift still rests in his bones.

With the storm at its height, the situation at the terminal isn’t any better. There are flight cancellations, irritated passengers with ruined plans, and not a single second to breathe.

The check-in counters are closed for the time being, and the queues at the help desks and ticket counters don’t have any chance of dwindling down soon, no matter how efficiently everyone tries to work.

Jaemin works the floor — talking to passengers about possible compensations and potential options. He smiles, keeps his cool, and directs them to where help should be. His mind is here, where it should and needs to be. Absolutely no space for mistakes. But it takes one question from a middle-aged woman with her son — maybe four years old, bucket hat, and an undeniably charming eye smile (crescents) — that almost pulls him out of his well-polished exterior.

He smiles at the mother and child and explains—as clearly as his now-distracted mind can allow—how and where they can avail of the free overnight accommodation.

They thank him profusely after, and only when they’ve walked away does he let himself think about the eye smile again.

Not the kid’s, but Jeno’s.

Jeno, whose flight also got cancelled and Jaemin had bumped into earlier. They offer each other comforting smiles, exchanging nods as they pass each other by and get whisked away by their own predicaments to deal with.

Jaemin doesn’t see Jeno even after his grueling shift ends, but he tries to mask his disappointment.

Which, judging by the devilish grin Renjun is sporting, isn’t exactly working out.

“What?”

Renjun turns away, pretends to check the time. “Quit sulking. I thought he was”—Renjun brings up his fingers to make air quotes—“just a friend?”

Jaemin steps in front of Renjun. “Well, he is!”

Renjun’s eyebrows shoot up. “Then why do you look like you got stood up?”

Jaemin is about to defend himself when Mark walks right in time to join the diss Jaemin party. “Oh, Jaemin, hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why?”

Mark, whose shift doesn’t end for five more hours, walks to the coffee machine. “nothing. Just missed you.”

Renjun snorts, “Easy, Mark. Our friend’s a little heartbroken.”

Jaemin spins to face both of them, groans, “I am not! I’m just tired. That’s all.”

“Right,” Mark stirs cream in his coffee. “Tired.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, but deosn’t push further, while Mark silently stirs his coffee. Once he’s changed into his sweatshirt, Jaemin very discreetly checks his phone for any messages from Jeno. He ignores the pang in his guy when there isn’t a single text. He has no right to be disappointed. Jeno doesn’t have any reason nor obligation to text him.

Mark, obviously spotting Jaemin’s frown again, speaks up when he’s about to head out. “Oh, wait, Jaemin!”

He yawns, turning around slowly. “what?”

“I bumped into Jeno.”

That immediately pique’s Jaemin’s interest and pulls him out of his sLeepy trance. “What? Where? When?!”

Jaemin forgets to hide his eagerness and immediately regrets it when Mark’s and Renjun’s lips simultaneously turn up into devious smiles.

“Yeah, Mark,” Renjun mocks. “What did Jaemin’s _friend_ say?”

Mark laughs, airy. “Nah, I think he’s beat. I’ll just tell him tomorrow.”

Jaemin punches the air in frustration. “You two are spawns of the devil!” Jaemin whines some more, which only earns more obnoxious laughter from the demonic duo. When he recollects himself, Renjun nudges Mark. “Okay, okay. Tell him. I’m dying to know, too.”

Mark sighs, a proud smile on his face. “He was looking for you, Jaem. His flight got cancelled so he was going home for the day but he wanted to see you first.”

Butterflies. Moths. Birds. Elephants.

An entire fucking safari teleports to Jaemin’s stomach.

Oh, no.

"He did?” Jaemin stammers out. “B-but he could’ve just”—he looks down at his phone—“texted me to see him?”

Mark’s and Renjun’s eyes are practically sparkling. They enjoy seeing Jaemin vulnerable too much. “Yeah, well. His phone died after making all those business calls.”

“He didn’t have a charger with him, and all the charging stations were full, so.” Mark clicks his tongue. “He says he’ll text you when he finds a charger, though.”

Jaemin smiles. Mark adds, “He told me to have a good day and for you to get home safely. With a blush on his face.”

Jaemin nods, the prospect of receiving a text from Jeno exciting him. Elephants. “Okay.”

Renjun coos, “Your_ friend_ sure is sweet! He sounds kinda like Xuxi when he’s away. You know, xuxi. My _boyfriend_.”

Renjun enunciates ‘boyfriend’ and Jaemin has a half a mind to flip him off.

✈

Jaemin thinks about Renjun’s remark all the way home — how Jeno had sounded like xuxi. How Jeno had sounded like a boyfriend.

It makes Jaemin smile. After years of being single, Jaemin thinks, it sure does feel nice to have someone worry about you (and vice versa).

But maybe Jeno wasn’t really worried? Maybe he was just concerned, as a friend?

Anyhow, he receives Jeno’s text when he finally plops onto his bed. His contact name on the screen like a warm embrace.

**jeno** [09:57 PM]

_I’m home. Did Mark pass on my message? I hope you’re home safe ^^_

Jaemin has never been more thankful that Renjun had turned down his offer to be roommates years ago. Because had Renjun accepted the offer, Jaemin wouldn’t be able to channel the way he feels right now— rolling over his bed, smile plastered on his face and legs flailing about.

They text and text till Jaemin hears his stomach growl — probably not the elephants making a ruckus because Jaemin’s pretty sure they’ve relocated to his nerves, stomping with each new message he receives from Jeno.

So he makes do with whatever snack he has and replies _ no _ to Jeno’s question of whether he believed in love at first sight or not.

Jaemin munches on his corn chips as he waits for his reply. He would be lying if he says he isn’t expecting a reply that goes along lines of “Well, I do. I liked you the moment i laid eyes on you” or some other cringe-worthy high school shit. Although frankly, Jaemin has recently discovered, he misses that cringe-worthy high school shit.

(Or maybe because it’s Jeno who does it.)

Sadly, Jeno’s reply isn’t instant, so Jaemin tries to distract himself with whatever’s playing on his tv. 

And then—

It takes a moment for Jaemin to realize what’s happening, but when it finally registers, he drops his phone on his lap, crushing his remaining corn chips. Dazed, he stares at it disbelievingly, waiting five more seconds to give Jeno a chance to drop the call, just in case it was a mistake.

It isn’t.

His phone only keeps ringing. And the elephants are rioting.

Jaemin deals with different people from different walks of life everyday. He orders chinese takeout like a pro. He sometimes flirts with the pizza guy to get extra coupons.

Jaemin shouldn’t be nervous. But he is. And he’s also kind of (read: very) excited.

“Hello?”

Luckily, Jeno seems just as nervous and excited. “H-hi Jaemin! I, uh, I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Oh, there it is. The cringe-worthy high school puppy love shit. Except instead of making him want to cringe, it only makes Jaemin’s heart do somersaults in his chest. “Ah, really?”

“Yes. I, uh. Sorry,” Jeno chuckles. “Am I bothering you?”

Jaemin’s clock signals it’s nearing midnight and they’ve been texting — and now talking — for two hours.

So it’s kind of too late to ask that question now. Jaemin titters. “No, no. It’s okay.”

“Oh.” Jaemin imagines him smiling on the other end. “T-that’s good to hear.”

Then Jaemin turns off the TV to hear him better because if he were being completely honest, he likes hearing Jeno’s voice, too.

They talk.

And talk.

And talk some more.

Jaemin doesn’t know for how long, and he doesn’t remember saying goodbye. He realizes that they’ve stopped talking only when he wakes up to his phone stuck to his cheek.

Shit. He fell asleep.

He checks the screen, and sure enough, it’s eight in the morning and the call has been dropped.

There’s a text from Jeno.

**lee jeno** [2:48 AM]

_didn’t realize how late it was, sorry i kept u up hehe text you in the morning? C:_

**lee jeno** [2:47 AM]

_you snore :p dw i thought it was cute hehe_

He fell asleep and he was snoring. Fantastic.

Shaking himself out of the drowsy trance, Jaemin checks the log and it tells him they were on the phone for almost three hours.

The last thing he remembers was Jeno’s story about Shanghai, how he has friends there who wanted him to design their place, how he enjoys those trips more than the Japan ones simply because he gets lonely there. 

He also remembers Jeno saying he won’t be flying to Japan for a while, after a sudden change of plans, at least not until his new project in Jeju is over—which translates to him not being able to see Jaemin for a while as well. Jaemin remembers his heart sinking upon hearing it.

Jaemin gets out of bed and inspects the mess from last night’s frenzy. Before he starts cleaning, he shoots Renjun a text: _u won’t believe what happened last night._

✈

It takes a week for the airport to slip back into its normal (yet still busy) pace. Jaemin works the counter and feels at peace again, finally.

By virtue of his parents’ line of work and their innate affinity for flying and discovering, Jaemin has been to many places. And in their travels, Jaemin has discovered that it’s the anticipation that he likes the most. The plane ride before all the magic happens. Jaemin is reminded of that now from where he’s stood behind the counter — in the eyes and eager voices of the young couple in front of him.

No matchmaking needed here, obviously.

Come to think of it, Jaemin hasn’t done any meddling recently. Maybe it’s the lack of seemingly compatible passengers.

(Or maybe something else has captured his attention in his humdrum life and he doesn’t need the added excitement.)

He checks the couple in, reiterates their flight details one last time, and tells them to have a safe flight. The rest of the line is a series of couples and friends and families, and Jaemin works through each party smoothly.

By the time the final boarding call rolls in, Jaemin has made up his mind. He loves his job, but he needs a break. Not permanently, just time away from it. He has rarely used his vacation leaves and has saved up enough for a trip, anyway.

When he has checked in the last passenger, he’s thinking of places he could go. He mentally lists down destinations as he walks to another counter which needs to open in the next ten minutes.

Busan? Kuala lumpur? Taiwan to visit his cousins?

As he’s thinking of options, Jaemin is suddenly pulled out of his reverie when Supervisor Suh approaches him.

“Jaemin, come with me.” Youngho says calmly, a friendly smile on his lips, and yet a million bad thoughts run through Jaemin’s mind.

Did he do anything wrong? Did the news of Jaemin switching pasengers’ seats in the name of love reach the higher-ups? Does he not smile enough?

"Don’t worry, I asked Hendery to open the counter for you,” Youngho explains.

“Am I in trouble?” Jaemin asks, wringing his hands. “I swear I don’t kno—“

“No, no trouble,” Youngho laughs, clapping a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder. “Someone just asked to meet with you.”

"Make it brief,” commands Youngho, before walking away and leaving Jaemin with two familiar faces whom he can’t pinpoint where he’s seen from before.

“Hi! Jaemin, right?” The smaller one greets, chipper. “Sorry, Youngho should’ve introduced us before leaving. I’m Taeyong.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell, but Jaemin offers him his hand and a grin, anyway. "Yes, I’m Jaemin. Hello.”

The taller one smiles at him too, wide and gummy, “I’m Doyoung.” Jaemin shakes his hand, too.

As soon as he retracts his hand, Doyoung links it with Taeyong’s again.

Jaemin smiles a little wider. “I’m sorry, but how can I help you?”

The two share a glance before Taeyong prods Doyoung to explain. “You don’t remember us. But if Youngho’s telling the truth, then you’ll probably remember the story.”

“Oh, are you friends with Supervisor Suh?”

“Yep,” comes Taeyong’s answer. “We both knew him from university.”

“Ah,” Jaemin nods, brows knit. “But what does that have to do with—“

“Around two years ago,” Doyoung cuts in. “You checked me in at Counter 46. And you gave me a window seat.” Doyoung pulls out a piece of paper, and Jaemin recognizes it’s a boarding pass. “16A,” Doyoung reads.

“And you gave me,” Taeyong follows suit, pulling out a different boarding pass from his own pocket, “16B.”

They both smile at him, both patiently waiting for him to put two and two together. Jaemin borrows the boarding passes, stares at it, and then down to their linked hands.

Oh.

Two years ago, Jaemin put a Mr. Lee and a Mr. Kim beside each other.

His first successful match.

He looks back up at them as realization dawns on him, and they bring up their hands in confirmation. “Yup. It’s us.”

“It’s good to see you again! I mean—I’ve seen you both together since that first encounter, you didn't recognize me but—“ Jaemin looks at them, mouth slightly agape, “Wow. Hello.”

The pair giggle at Jaemin who probably sounded like a blithering idiot, but he can’t hold back his happiness to see them again. “But how did you figure it out?”

“Youngho,” Taeyong says plainly.

So the supervisors really do know about the matchmaking. Or Youngho knows, at least.

"Don’t worry,” Doyoung waves his free hand. “He says he doesn’t plan on stopping you.”

“But that’s our little secret,” Taeyong winks before adding, “Thank you. For what you did. For this.”

Jaemin clarifies, “All I did was seat you two together. Most of it was all on you.”

"Still,” Doyoung urges. “We’d like to show our cupid some gratitude.”

Jaemin waits as Taeyong pulls out his phone. He shows Jaemin a photo of what seems to be an old farmhouse. “We’re setting up a café in my uncle’s tangerine orchard in Jeju,” explains Taeyong.

“And we’d love for you to be one of our first guests,” Doyoung continues for him. “We’ll take care of everything — flight, lodging, food. All you need to do, really, is show up.”

“Oh, wow,” Jaemin shakes his incredulously as Taeyong scrolls through photos of the orchard.

Jaemin wants to say yes, right there and then, because who is he, really, to turn down such a generous offer?

But the logical part of his mind tugs at him, and reminds him that (1) he hardly knows these people, and (2) all he did, really, was seat the two of them together.

Jaemin’s ready to say no when Taeyong speaks again. “Youngho’s coming, too. And he says you haven’t used most of your vacation leaves. So...”

“Please...” Doyoung adds, lower lip jutting out as if he were a kid, and not a full-grown adult a few years older than Jaemin.

This whole idea is ludicrous.

This doesn’t happen in real life, does it? Saying yes would be crazy, but a free trip practically being handed to him? Jaemin would also be crazy to turn it down.

He decides. “Okay.”

“Okay?” The couple parrot.

“Yes, but only if it’s okay—“

Taeyong laughs, unclasping from Taeyong to take both of Jaemin’s hands, “Of course it is!”

“Babe, stop,” Doyoung pulls Taeyong back, “You’re going to scare him.”

“Sorry.” Taeyong retreats, finding his place beside Doyoung again. “Got too excited, I guess.”

“Anyway.” Doyoung pulls out another paper. “We estimate that everything will be done in two weeks, just need to finalize the furniture and fixtures.”

Taeyong tells him the logistics, how they can talk through Youngho, and the estimated final date.

Knowing Jaemin needs to get back to work quickly, Doyoung wraps it up and stops an overzealous Taeyong from oversharing about their relationship. “You can tell him when he gets there, sweets.”

They thank him again to which Jaemin says it’s really no big deal. They bid farewell, says they have to drive to gimpo to catch a flight to Jeju.

As Jaemin waves at them as they walk away, he’s flooded with a wave of emotions. And he’s reminded again why he loves the airport, why he still believes love can happen — even in the rush of it all.

✈️

“A sign of a healthy relationship is being able to spend time apart,” Mark supplies unhelpfully as they haul an intoxicated Renjun into his apartment. “You can’t keep getting smashed every time you miss Xuxi.”

“Nobody asked, Minhyung,” Renjun sputters, eyes fluttering open for a millisecond. “Tell Mark nobody asked, Jaem.”

Jaemin chuckles despite himself, and does as he’s told.

Renjun is relatively smaller compared to Jaemin and Mark, so this should’ve been an easier feat, but he doesn’t like being wrangled, moreso being wrangled _and_ lectured at. It takes them an excruciating ten minutes to get from the door to his couch.

“I’m never drinking with you ever again,” Mark announces as he plops right next to Renjun, head resting on Renjun’s thighs. Jaemin, who proclaimed himself as designated driver for the night, takes his drunk friends’ shoes off for them.

Renjun has long passed out, but Mark still manages to mumble _thanks_ before drifting off as well. Jaemin sets two glasses of water on the coffee table for them — for later — before washing up and taking Renjun’s room as his territory for the night. 

His eyes are beginning to droop, but he still decides to check his phone one last time tonight.

He refuses to dwell on the disappointment that fills him again when he sees that Jeno still hasn’t texted (it’s been four days since their last conversation, but hey, who’s counting) and reminds himself that he shouldn’t be feeling what he’s feeling.

Early in the night, Renjun, before he turned into Jabba the Hut, had told Jaemin to just call him and ask him directly why he hadn’t been as eager as he was before Jaemin had tried to reciprocate his bluntness. 

Mark cut in aggressively then, stopping Jaemin just in time from pressing call. “You said it yourself, Jaemin. He’s busy,” Mark pointed out, snatching Jaemin’s phone and tucking it into his pocket. “And just because he’s busy doesn’t mean he’s lost interest. He did tell you what he was going to be up to, right?”

Jeno did. And Jaemin had been cool about it. Jaemin-of-the-past just never imagined he’d be missing Jeno’s good morning texts this much. Renjun was right. His matchmaking has come full circle, only to bite him right in the ass. 

Mark had a point, and although Renjun didn’t want to admit it (he misses Xuxi, who’s stuck somewhere in the Mediterranean, terribly, too), he knew he was right. Jaemin promised then that he wouldn’t try to do anything rash, leading him to proclaim that he wouldn’t drink a drop of alcohol for the night to avoid sending messy drunken messages (Renjun had that covered, though).

He doesn’t know when he started feeling this way, but Jaemin badly doesn’t want to screw this up. 

He still misses him, though.

So he makes a decision. Tomorrow, he thinks. Tomorrow, he flies out to Jeju. Maybe he’ll text him then.

Hopefully, Jeno hasn’t changed his mind about this. Because if absence makes the heart grow fonder, Jaemin’s has quadrupled and he’s in a whole lot of trouble. 

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a prompt, then it turned into a twtfic, and it just transformed into this two-part 10k+ mess. it’s still missing a limb (aka chapter 2) but thank you for giving it a shot nonetheless <3 comments much appreciated!


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